Archive of Our Own

1 . The Hockey Valentine

Peter was a strong believer in the idea that if you kept looking at the clock, time would take longer to pass by. Did that stop him from staring at the clock and sneaking glances every two seconds? No. The issue was… Peter had finally been promoted to an actual writer. He was afforded the opportunity to write his own articles after six years of cheap photographs and hopeful submissions that were usually rejected. 

That didn't make triple J any nicer to him, though, and it drove Peter up a wall. He'd been yelled at a record-breaking fifteen times today because he was trying to write a serious piece instead of making a smear article and none of the publishing board liked it. That also meant that JJJ had been pulling his own hair out of his scalp from the stress before coming to yell at Peter. He'd come to realize that the guy didn't mean to be an asshole; he was just constantly under the pressure of the job and it was all he had going for him. He needed to be a good face for the paper or he would be replaced by someone the investors voted for. People paid for drama and chaos and the guy had to deliver. 

That meant Peter got yelled at. 

He understood. It didn't mean he had to like it. 

He just had twenty minutes left of trying to write in his small cubicle before he could go home and write the rest of the article that he didn't get to finish because the fifteenth floor offices were always stifling and tense. He appreciated the pay now that he was out of college-- especially since the internship that should have landed him a job fell through when the Green Goblin started up-- but sometimes he wondered if this was all worth it. 

He could probably get Tony to give him a job if he showed his school records and asked, but… he didn't really want to. 

A knock on the side of his cubicle drew him out of his thoughts and he swung his chair around to face his visitor. 

Terra. 

"Hey," she greeted, smiling slightly as she gave him a little wave of her hand. 

Peter tried to smile, but he felt exhausted and he knew he looked worse than he thought when he saw the concern etched in her forehead. "I'm fine, don't ask. Honest." 

He offered her a smile with a little more effort behind it and she relaxed a bit, even if one hand was still fidgeting with her sleeve. "Is Triple J firing me again?" 

She laughed. "Not quite. Though, it would be interesting to see that happen for the fifth time this week." 

Peter snorted and sagged a little in his chair. Terra was nice to him, one of the few people willing to come by his cubicle even though the boss might yell at them. People at work generally stayed far away from him, hoping that by keeping a decent distance, their jobs would be safe. It wasn't as if Peter was in any actual danger of being fired. He was paid more now for writing because he demanded it, but they all knew that without him, the big boss would never get another decent picture of Spiderman again. 

Hence the bone tired snort. 

Terra just leaned against the side of his cubicle and and opened her mouth, shut it, and then started again. 

"You're not actually going to warn me that I'm being fired, are you? Because I know. I always know. It happens every Monday and Friday and then I show up again and we all pretend it didn't happen." 

Terra pushed a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear and shrugged. "I warn you every week. It's tradition." 

Peter nodded, his head laying against the back of his chair. "Yep. And I come back every week. Fun times." He smiled cheekily. "I think JJ just likes yelling. He's too nice to scream at you or Betty, so he screams at me because I didn't cry the first time he tried. Big softie." 

She snorted, her hand coming up to cover her smile as she shook her head. When her shoulders stopped shaking with laughter, she tugged a little on the sleeves of her sweater again and mumbled, "He would fire you if he heard that." 

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Again. Anyway, how've you been? You haven't been by my cube in a week. I've been buddy-less. Alone. Doomed to the solitude of these gray walls--" 

Terra shoved at his shoulder before snapping her hand back and Peter frowned. He wondered if he'd said something to make her uncomfortable. 

"You're fine," she teased, but it sounded serious and Peter didn't really know why that felt so off. He was fine. That had been the joke? "Anyway, I-- I came to… well. That is to say, I've been meaning to ask… if you…." 

She trailed off, hands bunching up the ends of her sleeves messily and Peter felt concerned, more than a little worried about what she had to ask him. 

"Yeah?" 

She jumped a little and Peter leaned forward instinctively, just in case she was going to fall, but she didn't. Her heartbeat was loud and suddenly Peter's main concern was making sure she didn't pass out. 

She straightened up, but she looked almost pale and Peter started to stand when she blurted out, "I have two tickets to a hockey game! The Rangers! Against the Buffalos. I-- I didn't know if you wanted to go?" 

She pulled out two tickets from her oversized sweater and Peter stared in bemusement.

"Oh. Oh, you aren't going to use them? I-- I'm not much of a hockey fan. Are you sure you want to give them to me?"  

He didn't know anything about Hockey. Why give the tickets to him of all people?  Sure, they were friends, but it felt like such a grand gesture and he needed to ask-- maybe she was sick. Maybe that was why she couldn't go. She did look pale and her heart rate was through the roof. He could only hope she'd made a doctor's appointment. 

There was a flash of something almost like horror on her face, but it disappeared with a flicker of light and Peter figured he must have imagined it because Terra was smiling at him again and handing them over insistently. "Yeah-- yes. You should go. Have fun. It's on the… it's on the fourteenth." 

Peter took hold of the tickets, noticing that Terra's hands were trembling a little and definitely wondering if he should suggest a doctor. Aunt May would probably know who to refer her to. He would have to call her and ask who she would recommend. 

He grinned, not quite as excited about the tickets as he wanted to pretend. "Thanks! This is amazing! Fourth row tickets. Wow. That-- thank you." He felt horribly guilty that she was giving them away. "This must have cost you a small fortune." 

He was so busy looking down at the tickets in amazement at just how close to the front they were that he didn't realize Terra had left the side of his cubicle and was speeding down the hall toward the bathrooms. Her eyes looked a little glossy and Peter resolved to ask Aunt May about which over the counter meds to bring in until Terra could get a doctor's appointment. He didn't like the idea of his friend being sick, even if it was just with major allergies. She looked like she was in pain.  

Looking back down at the tickets, Peter sighed. He wanted to enjoy them in Terra's stead, but he just wasn't sure what to do. He swiveled his chair back and forth thoughtfully. He didn't know the rules of the game and he didn't really know anyone that enjoyed hockey--

Peter stopped his chair. 

Deadpool. 

Wasn't Deadpool Canadian?  

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Wade was really excited. Unbearably excited. Ultra-mega-- 

[God, shut him up. If you exist, shut him the hell up--] 

{WE'RE GOING TO GET A DATE!} 

Yellow was being particularly cheerful today and Wade beamed. He was feeling confident. Sort of. Almost. 

[ Lies. ] 

Yellow started screaming the Everybody Lies song and Wade shrugged it off. He had patrol with Spidey and the webhead hadn't said anything about any plans later in the week-- he'd even invited Deadpool to join in on his patrol every day of the week, which meant he had no Valentine's Day plans. No date. No taken status. No attachments, as it were. 

And then Webs dropped down behind him and Wade squealed, turning around and vaulting himself at his favorite hero. 

He was dodged as Spidey scrambled to duck down, but Wade was persistent and he latched onto his leg. 

"Heya, babe!" 

Webs groaned and lifted his leg with Wade still attached to it, trying to shake him off. Vigorously. It didn't work. 

[Because you're a fucking leech-- ] 

{That one self help book said that if you stick to the plan, you achieve your goals. Goal is to have the bean, so we stick to the fucking bean. Pay attention, White!} 

[Toddlers. I'm living with actual children.] 

Wade grinned up at Spidey with his best hug motion. It wasn't quite the same as hugging a torso, but he could make do. Webs had thick thighs-- such… beautiful, lovely, thick thighs…  

[ENOUGH-] 

{I wanna rooock with youuuu, allll niiiiight-- } 

Wade swayed on Webs' leg to the music and finally Spidey kicked him off so that he landed a few feet away. 

"You know, I was going to invite you to something, but you have no concept of personal space, so maybe I'll just get someone else--" 

"NO!" Wade screamed. He snapped his mouth shut when he heard his own desperate protest echo back to him from several directions. "Uh, I mean-- please, please, please pick me--"  

Spiderman crossed his arms and started counting and Wade was freaking out because he didn't know what he was counting for.  

[How many seconds it takes for you to lose your shit?] 

{How many numbers he can count?} 

Wade snorted with zero grace and watched as Spidey's mask stretched with his cheekbones. He was smiling. "Wow. I counted to ten and you didn't throw yourself at me. Maybe you can learn personal space." 

And that-- 

{Hurt! Ow!} 

[Was honest--] 

"IS OFFENSIVE. I take offence! I can totally resist you!" Which, Wade realized one second after it slipped out of his mouth, was not the concern Spidey had. Oops. 

There was a laugh. It was quiet, but it was there and Spidey was putting his hand over his mouth to stifle it and Wade felt warm for all of a second before-- 

"Yeah, right. You talk about my ass like it's part of a Greek statue. However, the point I was making was about personal space."  

Wade rolled his eyes. 

[He's onto you.] 

{Does that mean he likes the way we talk about his ass--} 

"Yes, yeah, okay, I'm an ass guy. Man. Merc. Whatever! You were going to invite me somewhere?" Casual, casual, be casual.  

"Muttering casual to yourself doesn't make you seem casual. Just so you know." 

Wade was in the process of berating himself for talking out loud again when Spidey tossed him what looked almost like a flyer except-- 

Wade blinked. 

[What the fuck.] 

{Oh. Oh my god. } 

He blinked again to make sure he hadn't lost the last shreds of sanity in his brain. Nope. His one brain cell to be proud of was intact and this was a Hockey ticket. 

He looked into Spiderman's hands and sure enough he had one just like it. Two tickets. Two tickets to the Valentine's Day Rangers game. On the 14th. February 14th.  

He managed to keep his hands from shaking, but his knees felt a little unstable and Wade sat back on the ledge of the roof. 

[This. Is. Pathetic. ]

{IT'S JUSTIFIED!} 

[It's embarrassing. He asks you out and you instantly collapse.] 

{ This is Spiderman! It's not like it's the fucking Pope, okay-- } 

Wade could be casual. Spidey was obviously trying to play it cool, just handing him the ticket without much comment and joking around with him as usual. This was fine. This was good. Wade could have a whole meltdown then party over it in his apartment. Later. 

"I love hockey," he choked out. His voice sounded raspy and he tried to clear his throat.

"Glad you can come with me." He could tell Spidey was smiling at him and he wanted to savor the moment but life hated him.  

Wade's throat felt tight and he ended up punching his own chest to try and recover. Which led to a coughing fit. With a bit of blood that he needed to lift his mask up for, just so he could spit it out. Fuck. 

[Hell of a moment to pick--] 

{You should have fucking swallowed it-- } 

His cancer was acting up. This was the actual worst moment for it to have a strong phase. Wade just wanted to be excited about his date! 

Spidey got all concerned about him, crowding into his space like he wanted to make sure Wade could breathe right and that made Wade emotional now that it had a little meaning behind it. He used to think that Webs was like that with everyone, but they were going on a date. On Valentine's Day. Wade felt like his heart was lodged in the back of his mouth. "Are you okay? Hey, Wade, do you need to sit this one out?" 

Wade shook his head vigorously . 

Spidey just shook his head too and added, "You coughed up blood. If it's a bad day, go home, eat something-- I don't want you to get hurt--" 

[Holy fuck, he cares. Why? Why? ] 

{ I'm sexy and I know it! Cue electro music!!! } 

White was groaning. 

Wade was just stunned at the feeling of Spiderman's hands on his shoulders, steadying him, the sound of his voice asking him if he was alright, if he needed anything. He had a date with him. They'd talked while injured or in pain before, but suddenly everything felt a mile more intimate than last time. 

He let Spidey walk him home, bumping shoulders every few steps. The back of his hand kept grazing the back of Spidey's and he had the urge to reach out and link their hands together, but he was afraid of being too greedy. He hadn't even gotten date number one yet, after all. 

He kept up the string of jokes, the babbling, and when Webs walked him to his door, Wade kissed his cheek through the masks and promptly slammed the door in his face because, well, how did normal people do dating?  

Aaaaaaand then it turned out it wasn't a date.  

[Of course it wasn't.] 

{ You thought it was a date too! Thirsty bitch.} 

[I said he cared , not that it was a date--] 

{SAME DIFFERENCE--}

[It really isn't--] 

It seemed like it was a date when Spidey showed up without a mask, artfully tousled brown locks at the crown of his head and trimmed sides, soft baby browns, and a sharp nose. Lips with a fresh coat of chapstick.  

He'd even worn a Henley shirt, tight jeans that hugged all the right places, and Timberland boots. AKA the routine casual 'I wanna fuck' outfit. Wade had never even seen his face before and he'd damn near shot the kid in his doorway until he heard him talk and suddenly it was impossible to imagine any other face for that voice. 

The boxes were losing their shit, but Wade just stopped. Stared. Felt his blood pumping faster as his heart worked double time to accommodate his emotions and it wasn't working hard enough because Wade felt light headed. 

"I need to change," he blurted after Spidey's quiet, "You're going in costume?" 

He hadn't realized how casual this would be. He should have figured it out. Spidey couldn't go as Spidey because people bought online tickets with cards. Which had information. He would either be outing his identity or info on someone he knew and Wade should have thought of that and realized exactly how big of a move this was, but he hadn't and he didn't know this was a date-date. A serious date. 

[Never, in the history of man, has someone been more wrong than you were in that moment.] 

{We're already frustrated. Do you have to be a complete fuckwit--} 

[It's all I have left to live for, suck my dick.] 

{Ha! You don't have one! Ha!} 

Wade was trying to keep his face out of view but it was difficult in the crowd and he really didn't want anyone asking questions. At the very least, Peter didn't seem bothered by his appearance. He'd made eye contact, nodded like that was about what he expected, and said that they were running late. So they'd run for the subway and Wade was winded.  

On top of that, Yellow was being really petty but Wade found some amusement in it, given that he never thought hockey would be disappointing. His team was winning! He should have been enjoying himself! And yet. 

Peter kept asking him to explain the goals being made. He had probably never read up on the rules of hockey in his entire life and Wade was missing key points in the game to explain previous moments. If he hadn't been so excited to see a hockey game live again for the first time since his childhood, Wade might have been less irritated, but he was barely holding onto his calm. 

And then he saw Peter take out a small notepad and jot down little notes on all the rules Wade was giving him and all the animosity just drained out of him. His tone grew soft and the next time Peter asked a question, Wade took his time. He explained, in detail, why a foul was being called for a particular hit when other fights in the rink had been ignored earlier. Even if it meant he missed ten minutes or twenty of the game. There would be other games, but he was beginning to realize this definitely wasn’t a date and it might just be a one-time expensive hangout. He would take what he could get. Peter gave him a soft smile and Wade exhaled quietly.

Peter was too cute for his own good. 

[Already. You're already gone on him. It's been like a year. You've had merc jobs that took longer than that-- ] 

{And those stick with us because STRATEGY SO FUCK OFF--} 

Wade chuckled quietly to himself and bought Peter some popcorn later in the game. Peter was at least starting to understand the patterns, standing up to cheer when others did, grabbing Wade's forearm when his excitement got the best of him and pulling away with a bright grin. He kept watching the fights that broke out and jolting back as if it were a real danger, hand gripping the arm of his seat, body angling closer to almost shield Wade even though A) it was a game and B) Wade couldn’t exactly get permanent injuries. It was adorable. It was not good for Wade's heart.  

Again, Peter walked him home. He didn't think Peter realized he was doing it. He just kept talking about the strategies the teams used against each other like a new sport nerd and following alongside Wade. 

Wade didn't get a goodnight kiss, just a light punch to the shoulder, and a cheerful, "Thanks for coming with me, DP!" 

It was still the best date he could remember. 

[It wasn't a date.] 

{Tame dates are still dates!} 

[Not if he doesn't ask for a second. Which he didn't.] 

{But… but it's Valentine's Day. } 

Yeah. It was Valentine's Day. Wade was just happy he got to spend it with the one person he wanted… even if it didn't mean much. He shrugged to himself with a small smile. It was better than being alone. If anything, he could use the experience to hype himself up the next time he decided to try and ask his favorite little hero out again. 

It would happen! 

… at some point. 

2 . The Valhalla Garden  

Peter hadn’t really expected the Avengers to suddenly change their minds about him. Usually they were really uptight around him. Whenever he showed up, it was always, “Underoos,” and, “Kid,” and it didn’t matter that he was already fucking twenty-five; they just couldn’t see past the old breaking voice and the insistence on helping the little guy. All they saw was a teenager trying to be an adult and they couldn’t understand that they’d been seeing the same thing for ten years. That the image they had in mind had expired. 

Not that they’d ever confirmed his identity or the fact that he’d been fifteen when he started. Peter never gave them a chance, not even after they decided he was worth finding out about. The closest they might have been to finding him would have been if they’d bothered to look into who went to a hockey game the previous year with Wade Wilson, but they didn’t bother because no one believed Spiderman was quite stupid enough to go somewhere with ‘Wilson’ without a mask. 

Peter didn’t see it as stupidity. It was logic. He’d met Wade in… maybe not the best way, what with being thrown off a bridge and all, but… in a good way. When he’d shown up as Spiderman, Deadpool had freaked out and almost panicked as if there was a celebrity present. Before then, Peter had always been forced to prove he could play with the rest of the supers. Deadpool was the first mutant to take him at face value and trust that he had himself together. He hadn’t been able to convince Deadpool to drop the mercenary title, but he’d kept the deals out of New York and Peter knew that was more than any other super in the city had managed to get out of him. They became friends. Good friends. Peter… sort of trusted Deadpool more than he trusted anyone. If he said that out loud, he’d probably get sent to a psych ward, but it was true. 

Which was why hanging out with the Avengers grew less and less appealing by the day. 

They were… nice. Sort of. They became nice. His impression of them was soured by years of doubt and disappointment. Peter showed up when they needed help or when he couldn’t come up with an excuse to not see them. It was like he had acquired in-laws without the benefits of a partner. Horrifying. 

Peter wondered if maybe the thought was telepathic because suddenly Tony walked over to him-- in his usual confident stride-- stood in front of him, looked him over-- which wasn’t fun for Peter since he knew he looked like shit with all the cuts and bruises and tears in his suit-- and smiled. 

Peter felt a chill crawl up his spine. Tony smiled to put on a good show, sometimes he gave softer smiles when he was genuinely happy, and then other times… it was this smile. 

He was plotting and Peter didn’t like it one bit. 

“What?” he bit out. 

He’d all but ruined his suit to help them out and it would take hours to repair-- or he would have to make a new one which would take just as long. He wasn’t in the mood for games and he knew that face. Tony thought it was the time for games. 

“What’s your favorite food, kid?” 

Peter stared. He knew it wasn't impressive through the mask-- hell, it wouldn’t have been impressive with his stunned face on display either. This… seemed tame. It couldn’t have been that simple; Tony had the face. That face!  

“Why?” He didn’t quite manage to keep the suspicion out of his tone and he saw Tony tapping two fingers on his forearm where he’d crossed his arms. Impatience. What was his plan!? 

“No reason,” he replied. Quickly. It was just a second too quickly, but it was and therefore Peter felt anxious. “The team just thinks you did well today. It’s good information to know for the next time you come with--” 

Peter snorted. “So you can get someone to test the DNA I leave behind on my plate? Try and get closer to seeing genetic markers that might reveal who I am? I’m not an idiot, Tony. And I’m not a kid.” 

Peter turned on his heel and shot a web to swing away. 

Tony didn’t tell him he couldn’t leave, he just chuckled and that grated on Peter’s nerves. 

His burner phone got a message later that night. From Tony. 

Iron-Shovel-Head: The Valhalla Garden has a reservation for Spiderman tomorrow. Two people. Take whoever you want. Get yourself a date, kid. You’ve done well. Go live a little. 

Peter wasn’t angry. Definitely not. Except he was freaking furious. The Valhalla Garden was really expensive, possibly the most expensive restaurant in all of New York and Tony-- Tony thought Spiderman couldn’t get his own dates? He didn’t need a fancy restaurant to get a date! He had a life! 

Well… maybe his life was lacking in romantic escapades, but that didn’t mean he wanted help!

Besides, how was he supposed to just ask some stranger to go with him to… 

Peter felt a smile stretching across his face as he had a simple thought. 

He looked down at his phone, left Tony’s conversation, and went to Wade’s. 

Webs: So. Question. Do you want to go somewhere with me tomorrow? Hang out? Ruin a few people’s nights? It’ll piss off Tony AND you’ll get free food. 

He waited, nerves clawing at his stomach because he really wasn’t the type to turn down free food, but he wouldn’t want to go alone and if Wade said no-- 

He shook himself. This was nothing to be nervous about. They were friends; Wade would say yes and anyway, he would never turn down free food or the chance to piss Tony off. 

Wade: When and where, BB Boy? 

Peter grinned. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Wade was trying his absolute best to not throw a fit, but this was fucking fit material.  

[OR it’s time for you to grow up a little--] 

{Or it’s time for someone to shut the fuck up and let us be mad BECAUSE IT’S TIME TO BE MAD--} 

It was Valentine’s Day. Again. 

He was on a maybe-date with Spidey. Again. 

Only it wasn’t a fucking date and Wade did not understand.  

It had all the signs of it being a date? There was a fancy restaurant, there was good food, candles, red table cloths and roses! There were roses! On top of that, Peter had said this was a mission to piss off Tony. That was totally part of a date.  

That should have just been the fun part! That was how dates went! Any time Wade had a date with another merc they would go eat-- while watching each other carefully to avoid being poisoned-- they would trade a few stories, and then Wade would show them how he trolled the Avengers to have a little fun! A date! A date!  

[I keep telling you that trolling the Avengers is why your dates never work out.] 

{BUT THAT’S FUN AND IF THEY CAN’T ENJOY THAT WITH US, WE DON’T WANT TO DATE THEM ANYWAY!}

Exactly! Which was why Wade was so excited to show up at Peter’s place. He’d been told to wear something fancy, so he’d dressed up. He had a suit, a coat since it was cold, a tie.  

He didn’t think they were going to Valhalla Garden. That felt like-- like a serious relationship date. Was this a serious relationship? Had Wade just forgotten an entire relationship? 

[Nope.] 

{Sadly, fucking no. } 

Peter had worn a nice button up shirt, pressed slacks, and fancy italian shoes. He was wearing his mask, but so was Wade. This was a public appearance to piss Tony off, so they couldn’t go maskless, even if it saddened Wade to not see Peter’s face for their date. He had figured they could go to his place afterward and maybe watch a movie. 

[Except it’s not a date.] 

{ UGH. } 

Except it wasn’t a fucking date. 

Wade would have ripped out his hair if he had any left. 

They ate their food, laughed, Peter even leaned forward and fed Wade pasta from his fork.  

He knew it was for show, he just hadn’t realized it was all for show. He pouted a bit, but he could play along. For one night, Peter was his. They held hands across the table and Wade actively tried to regulate his heartbeat so that Peter wouldn’t pick up on how real this was for Wade. 

“Thanks for doing this for me,” Peter said quietly. “I know you didn’t have to.” 

Wade laughed. “Spidey. Free food, pissing off Iron Bucket, the good press of being associated with New York’s finest--” 

Peter snorted, coughing a little and shaking his head. “Good press? Wade. Wade, I have the worst press surrounding me. My image is--” 

“Better than mine,” Wade muttured. He saw Peter close his mouth and he decided boundaries could go to hell. This wasn’t a real date, but Wade could do his best to make it feel like one. He scooted his chair to the side of the table by Peter, leaving an entire side of the fancy set up empty so that he could rest his chin on Peter’s shoulder in an obnoxious show of affection. “One newspaper with a vendetta isn’t enough to ruin your reputation, Sweetheart. You’re the only hero who’s never the asshole.” 

Peter rested his head against Wade’s, took a glass of wine into his hand and raised it to Wade’s lips. It looked so normal. Effortless. As if it was something they’d done a thousand times. Wade smiled. The whole world would think Spiderman was Deadpool’s long term boyfriend and Wade would have every right to look a little jealous and get a little violent when someone showed a little too much focused attention to his recurring Valentine. 

[This pining has already gone too far. Just say something. You either get a little more or you move on--] 

{There’s no moving on from him. Shut your mouth. Patience! WE CAN DO PATIENCE!} 

[I don’t know what part of our brain you live in, but no statement has ever been so horribly incorrect--] 

{WE HAVE PATIENCE, YOU SHIT--} 

They didn’t. Not really. All the patience was really built upon a healthy layer of fear. 

“I’m not perfect,” Peter murmured. He had raised his mask halfway to eat and Wade could see the little hints of pink on his skin. He pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“You’re better than you think you are.” 

Wade could have kissed him at that moment. Peter was turned toward him, faces just an inch apart and then-- 

The fucking waitress came to ask them how they were enjoying themselves.  

The soft moment was over and Wade clenched a fist over his thigh. 

Would Peter have kissed him back? 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had to tell the servers that they insisted on washing their own dishes. Peter had laughed at that, but also made sure to insist since it was the smartest move. They couldn’t let someone have access to Peter’s DNA. If they used the opportunity to throw soap suds at one another and clean up around the kitchen while trading shitty jokes with each other… it only made it so that the staff at the restaurant was convinced they were involved. 

Even on the way home, Peter held his hand, leaned into him, smiled like it was the most fun he’d had in forever. Wade was melting.  

[Bad time to be melting over anyone, you’re being watched.] 

{WHO THE FUCK--} 

Wade smiled, put an arm around Peter’s shoulder and brought him closer. 

There was a little hitch in his breath and Wade felt a fuzzy sensation in his chest-- fuzzy was the wrong word; it reminded him of the time he woke up with a rat eating his large intestine. 

Nevertheless!  

He focused on the soft burning feeling-- was that heartburn? Maybe it was just heartburn-- 

[Still being followed--] 

{KILL THEM, KILL THEM, HOW FUCKING DARE THEY--} 

Wade grabbed Peter’s right hand with his left, brought him even closer, facing him, one hand on the nape of his neck, gently tugging him forward. 

He reached forward, just a small space left between them and Wade angled his head to the left, just a little. Peter tasted like raspberries and cherry wine. Wade had forgotten about the deserts at the restaurant, but it was a nice surprise. He was kissing Peter. He ran his tongue lightly over Peter’s bottom lip, teased his way in and Peter shivered a little in his hold. He let Wade in and Wade forgot what his excuse was until-- 

There was a flash from across the street. One, then two, then five and Wade smiled as he pulled away. 

He had his excuse. He was safe. 

“You-- cameras?” Peter breathed. 

Wade hesitated. There was a chance this could be more, but he didn’t want to jeopardize a good friendship if Peter wasn’t interested. He made a choice. 

He nodded. 

Peter laughed a little shakily and Wade laughed a little too, though his laugh was a lot more helpless than it was amused. 

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Wade snorted. “Anytime, sugarlips.” 

Peter punched him in the shoulder and Wade started cackling. 

At least Peter didn’t let go of his hand. 

The newspapers went wild in the next few weeks with theories about their relationship, videos of their kiss, and Wade received a less-than-kind threat from Stark. 

So Wade had to regrow a few special parts. 

[It was not worth the trouble--] 

{ SO KISS ME-- } 

Yellow was still singing love songs and Wade had to disagree with White. 

He didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to kiss Peter again. It was definitely worth it.  

3 . The Belgian Chocolates

Peter landed a new job. He hadn’t thought he would get it-- not with Stark’s competitor. It was kind of funny to him, but at the very least the job did come with a higher pay grade than what the Daily Bugle could afford him. And insurance. It came with benefits.

He had a few projects to deal with. He hadn’t imagined he would end up working on medical trials for new medications on control groups, but he was honored to work on something so important. His internship hadn’t hired him for lab work, so his prospects after that hadn’t looked too great. He’d settled into the Daily Bugle and only applied to research openings on a whim. Terra had quit and Peter didn’t have a lot of friends at the Daily Bugle so it grew increasingly hard to sit in a cubicle and write articles he didn’t enjoy. 

Landing the new job meant he didn’t have to work as many hours to make his rent payment. 

It meant he got to go on patrol for longer amounts of time-- though he didn’t really… 

Peter tried to suppress a smile, but it was difficult. 

He’d been spending more time with Wade. Wade was his best friend and they spent a lot of time playing video games, a lot of movie nights, and Taco Tuesdays on days that were never actually Tuesdays. Peter didn’t want to mess up a good thing. 

His… memories of their fake date were just clouding his judgement. Wade was a great friend and a wonderful person to have in his life and one kiss shouldn’t have been enough to have Peter wearing his mask around Wade more often so that he couldn’t see Peter blushing. 

It wasn’t just the kiss, though. It was the jokes and the way Wade laughed, the way Wade beamed at him when he fed him, rested his head on Peter’s shoulder like he belonged in his space, insisted on them washing their own dishes to protect him, the way they had fun in the kitchen with no care about an audience and then-- 

Wade had kissed him. 

It had all been for show and Peter just wanted to piss Tony off and he’d made that clear from the beginning, but somewhere along the line Wade had clawed his way into Peter’s head and refused to let go. He wasn’t supposed to like him that way. Wade didn’t like him that way. Sure, he found Peter attractive-- he made enough jokes about his ass and Peter knew that if he wanted sex from Wade, he could get it. But he didn’t just want sex and he didn’t think Wade wanted anything else, so this was fine. Taco Non-Tuesdays were fine. 

He was dragged out of his thoughts by his new boss dropping a box with a bow on his desk and walking away. 

“Uhhh.” 

Dr. Foreman paused, turned to look at him, and waited. 

The guy’s silence was unnerving. He kept waiting and Peter was a little intimidated, but he was too baffled not to ask. 

“Belgian chocolate?” 

“Chocolates. Plural.” 

Peter stared. Foreman stared back. Peter squinted to try and make sense of it. 

“Are you asking me out? Because while I’m flattered--” 

Foreman’s face broke out into a smile and Peter heard a few of the other scientists in the room choking back laughter. 

“Relax, Parker. I don’t want to date you. You won employee of the month, so you get expensive chocolates. Courtesy of the CEO. It’s not a major award, but he likes to keep his employees motivated.” 

Peter nodded. “Because he never comes down to talk to us?” 

Foreman shook his head. “Dr. House doesn’t need to talk to you to see your work. Nor to be impressed by it, even if he won’t say so himself.” He shrugged a barely perceptible shrug and gave Peter a look. Peter wasn’t sure what the look meant. “You’ll learn, Parker.” 

Foreman left quickly. He had a few folders under his arm and Peter cringed a little as he realized he’d kept his boss from what were probably more important tasks to question his romantic interests. 

He looked down at the elegant box of chocolates. It was one of those well-crafted boxes that someone could definitely keep as decoration after its original use and Peter liked it. 

It was a shame he didn’t actually like chocolate that much. It was a large box and there was no way he’d ever get through it on his own. 

And then he inspected the red ribbon and figured… Wade would like it. 

It didn’t have to be a romantic thing. Friends bought each other snacks all the time! 

He headed straight to their rooftop meetup after work. Usually Wade arrived earlier than he did, but Peter just shoved his work clothes into his bag and got into his mask. He didn’t know why he wanted so badly to surprise Deadpool. 

He still failed because Wade was there before he was, a bag of tacos in his lap and he swayed his legs back and forth off the roof ledge and mumbled to himself. He was hugging the tacos to himself protectively and Peter found that far cuter than he should have. 

He cleared his throat a little and gave a tiny, surely imperceptible smile from behind his mask as he held out the box of chocolates. 

There was a gasp, a squeal, and then a body crashing into him as Wade launched himself across the roof and tackle hugged him.  

Peter tried his damnedest to spare the innocent chocolates by throwing them a few feet away as Wade latched onto him. 

He felt like the air get knocked out of him and Wade had his arms wrapped around Peter’s waist and as much as he wanted to let himself enjoy it, his heart was pounding and-- 

“Holy shit, Wade. What even-- I didn’t know you like chocolate that much. ” 

Wade sagged over him before pushing himself away with a laugh and Peter felt cold with the space between them. 

“Oh. Yeah! Ha. I totes-- I got a heart attack once from eating too much chocolate.” Wade was talking almost faster than Peter could keep up as he grabbed the box and held it to his chest, tacos forgotten beside him. Huh. Maybe he really did love chocolate. “Popped back up a minute later and downed the rest like a boss. Ha. Good ol’ chocolate, my buddy and pal! My love! And it’s Belgian. Fancy!” 

Peter breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Wade seemed more than happy with the fancy box and that… that made Peter really happy. Stupidly happy. Abnormally pleased. 

This was getting out of control. 

He was too busy trying to get a hold of himself to notice that Wade was glaring at the box of chocolates like it held the secrets to the universe and cracking it open would give him answers. 

Peter just muttered, “Thanks for helping me eat them, I guess.” 

Because it was all he could think to say. 

He didn’t expect Wade to grab his face in one hand out of nowhere and shout, “Who gave these to you! There’s a note! Who is my rival!?” 

Peter rolled his eyes and smacked Wade’s hand off. 

“Real funny,” he scoffed. “Dr. House is my boss, I won an award, and trust me, he’s too busy to compete with anyone. I’ve never even met him, Wade. Now quit the jokes, and eat your chocolate. We’ve got crimes to stop and if you’re going to always jump in front of bullets, you need to fuel up so that I don’t get a stroke the next time your regen slows down.” 

He ignored the part of him that wanted to add how he was terrified Wade might not get back up again, but that felt too personal. Too real. They were just friends. This was just a crush. It would pass. 

Wade was humming to himself and eating his chocolates and Peter ignored the part of himself that was calling him out for being a liar. 

4 . The Non Romantic Smash Bros

The issue with the internet was that it led to movements that Peter wasn’t aware of. 

Spiderman was just trying to have a normal patrol night. He was not prepared for the first person who handed him a rose. 

“Hello? I-- thank you? What is this--” 

“You saved my little sister once, man. This city-- this is your city. We owe you something. You’re here on this night of all nights ‘n we’ve got a debt, you feel?” 

Peter did not feel. They-- no. No, they didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t sign up for this responsibility for the attention-- 

He tried to hand the rose back. “I was just doing what anyone would--” 

“Nah, man. That’s not something anyone woulda done. I have my Grace ‘cause of you. Keep it.” 

Peter remembered a little girl. Grace. She’d almost been taken from a family birthday party in the park when she chased after a puppy. Her brother had a record. This guy was someone Peter had gotten arrested before. He’d been carrying the day of the park, but he’d put the gun away when he saw Spiderman interfere and Peter didn’t get him booked for it again. He glanced down at the guy’s waistband and smiled when he realized the guy wasn’t packing. 

Said guy grinned and brushed a hand through his hair. “I know you probably got plans, so ‘m not gonna try my luck on a guy like you. But keep the rose. You oughta keep ‘em.” 

Peter crossed his arms, feeling oddly vulnerable and trying to cover it up because he was a superhero and he wasn’t supposed to expose his vulnerabilities. He might have dated a guy like Grace’s brother-- someone who had turned their life around-- if he wasn’t already idiotically obsessed with someone else. “Thanks,” Peter forced out, voice tight. He couldn’t exactly turn away such a nice gesture. And then he processed the rest of the statement. “What do you mean 'them?' No one else is giving me roses--” 

His would-be suitor laughed and looked at Spiderman like he was clueless. Peter wanted to feel offended, but he was clueless. 

“You’ll see.” 

And Peter did see. A little too much. 

Several people-- strangers, called out to him as we swung on patrol. He was shouted at so many times that swinging around became counterproductive since he had to swing down every few minutes. He started walking down the streets and having people walk up to him with one or two roses each. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. Most of them said he’d helped them at some point or helped their families or friends. Some of them he’d never met, but they said they felt safe with him around. By the end of his patrol, Peter had at least a hundred long stemmed roses and he had no idea why everyone chose one night in the year to appreciate him. 

He felt like crying, he felt happy, he was overwhelmed, and then-- 

He realized something a little unfortunate. 

He’d ventured too far from home to walk back.  He couldn’t swing around with a hundred roses in his arms. He also couldn’t throw them away, that would be so disrespectful to everyone that supported him and the risks he took and he didn’t want them to think he was ungrateful--

Peter stood in place. 

There was a flower shop across the street. It was closed, but he had a vague memory of Wade saying something about the florist. 

Wade often went on long tangents during their patrols. He’d almost invited Wade along tonight, but he’d been at Wade’s place every night for four nights and he didn’t want Wade to realize that Peter wasn’t just coming around for his cooking skills. 

That being said. Wade had told him that the florist in that flower shop lost his business. He’d been a regular for a few months before then apparently-- always decorating his apartment. 

Peter had been to Wade’s place back when the original owner ran the shop. It was sweet how much Deadpool liked flowers. His apartment used to be so colorful, filled with bouquets, the walls all lined with preserved lilies. When the shop owner left his son in charge, Wade stopped going. Apparently the guy took issue with a few blood stains. Peter figured that was reasonable, but when Wade talked about it, he looked a little pained. It was like there was a lot more to the story than the blood and Peter felt a little sad now-- realizing that someone had ruined a hobby that Wade loved so much. 

He was hugging the roses close without realizing it. He looked down at the fragile flowers, soft roses with no thorns. Long stems. Wade would adore them. 

Peter sighed. He couldn’t help smiling and he laughed a little. God, this was sad. He shouldn’t have bothered keeping himself away from Wade for a night. He would have ended up at his place anyway. It was just his luck that he would end up at his door with a hundred long stemmed roses. 

He went up the stairs, he dipped his head in embarrassment when the old woman from the third floor opened her door to wink at him and tell him Wade was upstairs listening to love songs. 

Peter had to bite down on a ridiculous grin as he heard, “My Heart Will Go On,” pouring down the stairway and echoing off the walls. Wade was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous and he wished Wade was serious about flirting with him-- he would have been much happier if he’d been coming here to hand over the roses in a romantic gesture. 

He felt his stomach doing backflips as he listened to Wade singing along. It was such a stupid thing to be nervous over, but Wade managed to wrap him up in the crazy and Peter found it more comforting than normalcy. 

He knocked on the door. The music went silent and Peter felt a quiet ache in his chest at the sudden emptiness. 

The door opened. Peter waited for Wade to put his gun away, heart racing as he held the roses in front of him. There were too many to hold in one hand so he was reduced to hugging them until he could hand them over. 

“So, I got a lot of random roses tonight and I can’t really swing home with them, but I didn’t want to throw them away and you like flowers and I know you can’t go to the nearest florist anymore, so I was wondering if-- I just thought you might-- do you want these?” Peter asked, trying to sound cheerful instead of on the edge of panic. He was rushing and he knew exactly how desperate he sounded and he waited for Wade to tell him no-- or to say something, but Wade just stared him down. 

“Yeah. Sure-- I love roses.” He kept staring and he didn’t take the flowers and Peter started tapping his foot anxiously. “Was there… anything… else? That you wanted to say, maybe?” 

Wade could see right through him and Peter felt like dying. He had to play this off. He was not ready for the awkward conversation they would have in order to address Peter’s feelings. He’d rather put it off forever. 

“Nope! Nothing. Just flowers-- I don’t really understand what they were for, but everyone was saying I deserved them, but I thought maybe-- you probably deserved them too. So-- yeah.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Peter nodded insistently. 

He could hear a tinge of frustration in Wade’s voice, but Peter was absolutely not discussing his unrequited feelings. 

“And there was definitely nothing else?” Wade asked insistently. 

Peter was just digging his own grave a little deeper and he tried to divert the conversation. 

“Uhhh… wanna play Smash Bros?” 

Wade sighed heavily and Peter exhaled slowly to calm himself, grateful Wade was giving him an out as the merc took the totally not-romantic roses from his arms and went to the kitchen to place them into a vase. 

He would live another day. With his traitorous heart beating for his best friend when Peter just wanted to be able to enjoy Taco nights without risking palpitations. 

He had to get over this.  

Wade came back into the living room with a tray of Spiderman themed cookies and Peter realized he definitely wasn’t going to get over this. 

5 .  You Know I Love You, Right?

Peter wasn't entirely sure what happened. It was a blur. All he knew was that one moment he was screaming for Wade to get out of the way and the next he was waking up in a hospital bed. A very unwanted hospital bed. 

He sighed when he realized he wasn't wearing his mask. 

He sighed a heavier sigh when he saw Tony in his room. 

"Wade," Peter mumbled. His jaw hurt. His shoulder hurt. His everything hurt. 

"I'm not bring in the crazy just because you're-- whatever you are with him--" 

Peter opened his mouth to argue when the sounds of gunshots echoed down the hallway. He focused as much as he could manage and grinned when he realized there weren't any heartbeats speeding up or slowing down erratically. Wade hadn't actually shot anyone, he was just putting on a show. For Peter. 

It said a lot about how much he'd learned to trust Wade-- that he felt butterflies in his stomach from the sound of missed bullets instead of fear. He'd given up on getting over his crush and decided to just enjoy being around his best friend and not let his feelings get in the way. 

Tony was standing in the way with a pinched look on his face. 

"Tony. This is not worth your time--" 

Peter laid back and rolled his eyes as he saw Tony get his phone out of his pocket and call a secondary security team. 

Six disarmed security details later and Tony was gritting his teeth and stomping out of the room to get his suit and handle the issue himself. Peter smiled. Wade was amazing in combat and in invasion tactics and Peter knew he'd get where he wanted to get sooner or later. Tony wouldn't be able to stop him. 

Several nurses came in to check on him every half hour and Peter grew less and less patient as the hours ticked by and neither Tony nor Wade made it into his room. He had a feeling Tony was trying to interrogate Wade about whatever happened. The reality was, Peter had felt the blast coming. He'd known and he tried to get Wade to run and he kept getting images in his head of Wade running at him. Reaching him. Shielding him against the ground. 

He knew Wade had to be fine, the shouting voice from beyond the lower floor was definitely him, but the image of terror through Wade's mask kept his heart rate high and unsteady and his primary nurse was getting concerned. 

"There's no reason for your heart rate to be this elevated, I need to get the doctor--" 

"Wait." Peter breathed in and out and tried to project as much calm as possible as he explained. "I don't need the doctor. I need Wade." 

It made him sound far more vulnerable than he would have liked, but he just… Wade was the reason his heart rate was elevated. Wade was fine, he healed, he had regenerative powers. Knowing something and seeing it were two different things and Peter needed to see that Wade was okay. 

The nurse was looking at him like he was asking for something impossible and Peter didn't realize his eyes were watering until it became difficult to see clearly. "Please." 

His voice cracked on the singular syllable and he saw the resolve cracking on the nurse's face. 

She looked stunned at first, and then a sweet smile grew on her face and a knowing look crossed her eyes-- it was almost like she was acknowledging a secret between them, and Peter thought back to the one very public date he'd had with Deadpool three years prior. He felt his face flame up, but he held her stare and gave a grateful little smile as if he knew she would give in and he didn't want to be disappointed. 

"I… will see what I can do, Mr. Parker." 

She left quickly, her head held a little higher. Peter absently wondered how many news stations would be chattering about his identity by nightfall and how many of those would be more focused on his relationship with Deadpool than on his life. He was suddenly extremely glad Aunt May had remarried to a rich man after ten years of living alone. He didn't like Mr. Richardson, but the man had the money and the men to protect his Aunt and that was enough. 

It took a half hour, but the alarms throughout the building finally stopped blaring at random intervals like triggered sirens and Wade kicked in the door to his room. 

Peter beamed and tried to wave on instinct, wincing at the sharp pain in his side. Both of his legs were in casts and so was his right arm-- all the way up to the joint of his shoulder. 

He breathed through the pain. It wasn't half as bad now that he could see that Wade was alive. 

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Getting into the Tower wasn't an issue for Wade. Once he'd managed to scrape himself off the concrete and walk-- he'd booked it there. He'd heard Peter begrudgingly call the Avengers for backup and he knew they would have come in. He was worried sick and he damn near killed the guards trying to keep him from going up the elevator shaft until he heard Tony's voice over the phone yelling at them to do their jobs. Tony sounded annoyed, but not worried. It meant Peter was fine. Well. Not fine. No way could his Babycakes be fine after that explosion, but Wade knew now that it hadn't been fatal or coma-inducing. 

[You worry too much--] 

{Are you implying we're not justified because, White, I swear to high hell-- } 

Not even the boxes managed to distract Wade from the questions Tony started asking after he dragged Wade into an interrogation room. It was almost as good as the one Wade's base in Sweden had. Almost. He wasn't impressed and he could see it pissing Stark off. The goal was to get him angry enough to leave the room so that Wade could break out, rush to Peter's room, and think of a plan from there. 

He managed to piss off Stark after he insinuated that Peter wanted to see him for sex. It was a blatant lie, they'd only kissed once for the cameras, but Tony punched the metal table between them and shouted that that wasn't why Peter was asking for him. 

Which only made Wade grin smugly as he said, "So he has been asking for me. And you're keeping us apart? For shame. Standing in the way of true love. Steve would be so disappointed in you." 

[He has weapons that won't kill you, but can maim you. Is this a kink? Do you enjoy causing us pain? It feels like you enjoy causing us pain--] 

{No one ever got hurt by a little canon--} 

[Incorrect. Extremely incorrect. Christ, you're the stupidest fucker I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with--] 

{Love you too, bitch--} 

Tony stomped off and Wade was just done dislocating his thumbs to slip out of his hand cuffs and popping them back into place when a nurse snuck in and made a 'shhh' motion with her finger. 

[You've got to be kidding me.] 

{Ahhhhh! This! This makes the cut backs worth it. I told you we'd get good karma. It's real--}

Wade rolled his eyes and followed the nice nurse, hiding in private room doorways as if advancing was part of a covert operation. 

When he reached Peter's room, the nurse whispered that he had twenty minutes. 

[I don't think she understands that you respawn like a cockroach--] 

{At least we can't be kept down--} 

[A pest--] 

{It's called being resourceful --} 

[Big word.] 

{Fuck you, too.} 

Wade nodded at the nurse even though he was determined to stay with Peter for the rest of the day. Peter had invited him to spend the free day off work patrolling with him and Wade would stay the entire day even if Tony killed him. It was Valentine's Day and maybe Peter didn't realize it or maybe he did and they just had one freaking date a year, Wade didn't know anymore-- but this was his day. Their day. Nobody was taking it away from him. 

[Yes, I'm sure watching Stark blow you up is just what Peter needs after almost getting blown up himself. And then getting crushed under a building with you.] 

{He asked for us. He obviously loves us, so if you could just catch up to the rest of us, that would be--} 

[You're both morons. He's a hero, he's grateful, that's all. ] 

{Lalalallalalalala I can't hear you-- } 

Wade waited for the nurse to leave and turned the doorknob. Locked. Oh, right. It had to look like he struggled to get in. Whatever. 

He kicked the door in, feeling a small wave of nostalgia for his military days, and then every feeling he had was obliterated at the sight of Peter, poor fucking Peter, trying to wave at him despite being more cast than person. 

"Holy shit, Petey. I'm so fucking sorry-- I tried to shield you, but Christ--"  

"What? I'm fine--" 

"You're not-- this is not fine. Baby Boy, this is the furthest thing from fine I've ever seen on you." 

[Nice way of telling him he looks like shit.] 

{ Can you just fucking let us have him for one moment? We don't always want to be miserable-- } 

Wade was all the way across the room in the blink of an eye, sitting in the chair next to Peter's bed and taking hold of his hand before he could think better of it. 

"I'm--" 

"Say you're fine, again, Peter. I dare you. Say that to my face one more time." 

Peter was looking into his eyes and Wade was suddenly acutely aware that he wasn't wearing a mask. It had burned. He'd had to steal an outfit from a store on the way to the Tower, and then the uniform of one of Tony's guards that matched his relative size. 

[You wanted to know he was alive and yet you stopped to make sure--] 

{So we wanted to dress up for bae on Valentine's Day! Why are you such an ass about it? We wanna have fun too, ya fuck!} 

Wade knew Peter didn't really register how bad his face was anymore, but Wade at least felt confident that he wore a tactical S.W.A.T. uniform well. Black suited him.

[So maybe it does. He's staring.] 

{ It's working! Seduce him! } 

Peter opened his mouth, shut it, looked Wade over instead of arguing and murmured, "I'm glad you're okay." 

Wade puffed his chest out with more than a little pride and claimed, "Of course I'm okay! I'm always okay. I'm like The Thing from the classic. You can freeze me, put me down, but there is never an end." 

Peter chuckled, and then his face contorted and he went still again. 

Wade held his hand a little tighter. "I can get you better drugs for the pain, Darlin'. They got the good stuff, but they won't give you enough--" 

"I'm fi--" 

Wade smiled when Peter cut himself off and ended the statement with, "I don't think that's the best option here." 

There was shouting down the hall and Wade grew tense, standing, pulling a knife from his waistband and taking slow steps toward the doorway. 

[Or you could not? Just sit down and show that you can be reasonable--] 

{CHARGE!!!!} 

[Of course not. Why do I bother.] 

The shouting stopped and Peter asked him to come back, but Wade looked out the doorway and noticed Tony glaring in his direction with a strained jaw as the nurse berated him for not putting the needs of the patient first.  

[He looks so angry . Take a picture.] 

{What happened to being "reasonable?"}

[Just don't turn on the flash--] 

Wade was so smug. And he did take a picture. Mostly because Tony couldn't do anything about it. 

They were left alone for the rest of the day. Nurses came in every few hours to check Peter's vital signs and to ask about his pain levels and whether or not they should adjust his morphine intake. 

They wanted him to stay for a week, at least. 

Peter wanted to go home with Wade and Tony could scream all he wanted about it, but at the end of the day he couldn't kidnap a super and force him to stay if it wasn't medically necessary. 

[And you don't think he would receive better care in a legitimate medical ward--] 

{NOPE! They suck, we take him home, end of story--} 

Wade could take care of him. 

Wade could administer morphine just fine and Peter would be more comfortable in his apartment. That was a fact that took all of the Avengers by surprise and made Steve look distinctly uncomfortable. Which was fine, they had all grown to be rather protective of Spidey. The problem was that they failed to understand that Wade had been protecting him long before they bothered to get to know him. They'd just found out his identity! Wade had known for years.  

If they stubbornly avoided mentioning Valentine's Day so that they wouldn't have to see anything unwarranted, that was fine too. They didn't want to think about the way Wade had been hand feeding Peter all day or the way Peter trusted him to do so and Wade didn't want to talk to them about the intimate moments that weren't really any of their business. It worked towards Wade's advantage since he knew they were all assuming he and Peter lived together. Which… they sort of did? Peter slept more at Wade's than at his own place and sometimes Wade had the urge to just ask him to move in, but-- 

[Now's not really the time to think about it, is it--] 

{It is always Baby Boy time. Like pizza time, but sexier --} 

Peter was not amused when Wade repeated the joke on the walk home. They'd given Peter a makeshift mask to wear, but he tossed it. His identity was out and they both knew there was no point in it. After making sure Aunt May's husband was informed of the situation, Peter finally let Wade settle him down into a wheelchair and roll out. 

They could tell Stark set a security detail on them, but at this point the fight wasn't worth it when Stark already knew where Wade lived. 

[He won't stop watching you until the kid's out of the apartment again--] 

{Well he can go fuck himself in the Swiss clubs if he thinks--} 

"Well, he ought to get comfy with his surveillance team then. Petey's not leaving again." 

Peter's head was ducked forward, his chin against his chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open this late, but he still blurted, "I can hear you." 

Wade nodded. Then he realized Peter's eyes were shut and decided talking was necessary. "I know, Babycakes. Can't have you thinking I don't want you at my place, though. Gotta make it clear it's safer when I'm there to kick ass with you, you know? Bonnie 'n Clyde." 

Peter laughed softly and rubbed at his eyes with his fractured, but not broken hand. The only limb that wasn't in a cast was his left arm. "They both died." 

[Obvious comparisons. That's what you're going with?] 

{If it works, it works--} 

[Well it's not working .] 

Wade smiled. "Doesn't mean they were any less great." 

Peter nodded tiredly but didn't say anything and Wade figured he fell asleep after a while. 

He was wrong, but that wasn't really news. He was wrong a lot, he didn't mind the status quo as long as he learned from it. 

When they took the elevator up to the apartment, Wade decided he would carry Peter to his bed. Peter usually crashed on the couch, but he was injured and even if Peter decided to fight him on it in the morning, Wade couldn't let him sleep at a weird angle. 

[Careful--] 

{Oh. How sweet. You care-- } 

[Careful, he's a hero.] 

{.... Was that a fucking meme reference?} 

Wade tried to stifle his laughter, focusing on Peter and lifting him out of the fancy wheelchair. It was automatic and Wade could have controlled it with a remote if he'd wanted to… but he'd still pushed Peter's chair the entire way home to be close to him. 

It was that same thought process that led to him cradling Peter gently to his chest as he lifted him out of the chair, hesitating to set him down. 

He froze when Peter moved, pressing his face into Wade's chest and whispering a quiet little, "Thank you," that made Wade's throat feel too tight. 

"No, Petey, I-- you don't gotta--" 

Peter blearily opened his eyes to glare up at him and Wade felt guilty for making him think that wasting his energy on a disagreement this late was needed.  

He was slurring words then, clearly beyond the last layer of exhaustion he had and still murmuring, "You-- my best… friend. Wade." 

Wade swallowed down a thousand emotions as Peter kept a fragile grip on Wade's stolen uniform with his fractured hand and whispered, "You know I love you, right?" 

[He just called you his best friend, don't go making assumptions-- ] 

{He… loves us. He loves us. } 

[No, he doesn't. He's tired. He's injured. His identity just got compromised and he's had a hell of a day trying to get released from a medical ward. He's not thinking straight --] 

{Yeah, that's the point .} 

[Hilarious.] 

Peter deliriously snuggled against Wade's chest, murmuring incomprehensible phrases and something about heartbeats and Wade couldn't help kissing his forehead. He couldn't stop himself from tucking him in and gently carding his fingers through Peter's hair. 

He was hurting over him and he couldn't make it stop. Was this what love felt like? He couldn't remember if this was the same feeling he'd had for Vanessa, it had been so long and it… it wasn't really the same. Vanessa had been easy to understand. They'd jumped into bed with one another and when they formed something more-- the familiarity made it easy to brand as love. It was. Peter was just… something else. 

Peter was his best friend before anything and that made the line hard to draw. 

Because that was just it, wasn't it? Peter was his best friend. 

It didn't matter that Peter had a Deadpool plush stashed in his apartment, or that even passed out, Peter still had an injured hand desperately clutching Wade's uniform to keep him close. 

None of it was a guarantee that Wade had a real chance at making more out of them. 

But even with the heavy weight of doubt lingering above Wade's head… he looked down at the relaxed curve of Peter's face in his proximity and felt a terrifying amount of hope.

+1 You Should Be Ashamed.  

Six years. Six years and Peter had spent every single Valentine's Day with him and Wade was tearing at the seams to try and figure out what he was doing wrong.  

As far as he could tell, Peter hadn't had a relationship during that time. He'd started catching onto the lingering stares and the inadvertent cuddling after Peter mumbled about loving him the previous year. 

He was not crazy, there was something there.  

[The status of your sanity is questionable.] 

{We are going to be happy. We are going on a date. We are going to make it very fucking clear that this. Is. A. Date. Do you understand the words I'm saying to you?} 

"Yes." 

[No.] 

While Yellow went on an entire tirade against White, Wade focused on the task at hand. He'd bought thousands of the stupid battery operated water lily lights to lay over the rooftop. He had already lined the roof ledges with roses, set up a dining table with a red tablecloth and a set of fancy dinner plates. Sure, they just held tacos, but that was tradition and Wade did make sure to hide a piece of the raspberry dessert from Valhalla's Garden for nostalgic purposes. And cherry wine. 

He knew it wasn't… all that expensive. He'd taken the table itself from Weasel's bar and bought the little lights in bulk for about a hundred dollars but… it was pretty. The most expensive part about the entire thing were the roses which Wade didn't want to think about. He still wanted to punch the new owner's teeth in. 

On the bright side of things… Wade had threatened all the major warehouse companies with the utmost pain if they didn't shut down for a couple days and that meant that for once, the stars were visible in New York City. 

[This is a bit much for what probably wasn't a date to begin with--] 

Yellow was fuming as he bit out, {It. Will. Be. A. Date. You know why? Because we're going to fucking make it a date. The end. Fuck off. Goodbye. Bon voyage, bitch, it's a fucking date 'cause I say so.} 

Wade waited. 

He hadn't been surprised by the fact that Spidey invited him on patrol for the week. This week. Ending on this day.  

He hadn't been surprised when Webs acted no differently than usual, meaning he wasn't expecting it to be a date. 

The issue with that was, they both clearly wanted something. Any time Wade put his arm around Peter, his webhead allowed it without a word. If Wade latched onto him? Peter no longer shoved him off. If Wade decided to jump off a building, Peter was there to catch him and trade jokes with him and pretend it hadn't been as serious a thing as it was clearly meant to be because Peter just knew Wade didn't need to feel any worse. No one knew him like Peter did and no one knew Peter like Wade did and six years in the making, Wade wasn't going to wait for it anymore.  

He was done watching Peter fall asleep on his shoulder, but not getting to hold him in his bed. He was done trying to stop Peter from protecting him and seeing him get reckless and injured on Wade's behalf even though they both knew damn well Wade would be fine. He was done pretending that every time Peter smiled at him, he wasn't dying inside trying to fight the urge to crowd him up against a wall and taste him. No more. No fucking more! 

[You sound like a child throwing a tantrum over the lack of a Happy Meal.] 

{I don't know if you noticed that Peter is not comparable to a goddamn nugget-- } 

[I don't know-- both small, both something you keep saying you want to eat, seems the same to me--] 

{YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO WANTS TO FUCK A NUGGET--} 

[I already told you that's not what I said! You keep bringing it up--] 

Wade tried not to laugh. This was serious. A totally serious moment. 

He was wearing his favorite suit. It was ironed and it was tailored to fit him perfectly and he wore a loose red tie. 

It wasn't really… impressive or anything. But Peter knew him and Wade knew Peter liked him and he… he didn't have a reason to hide behind fashion statements or to make an impression. 

He was fidgeting, adjusting his tie, re-tying it because it was obviously done incorrectly, taking it off and starting over-- he finally just threw the tie off the side of the building as his nerves got the better of him. 

[Second thoughts? You can always throw all of this off the roof. Or throw yourself at the next roof over and say this one was taken by a couple on a date--] 

{Stop! Stop sabotaging our date!} 

[I'm not sabotaging anything! I'm saving the only friendship we have that isn't criminally motivated-- ] 

It seemed Wade had run out of time to back out of his decision because he heard the drop of unsteady footsteps on the roof ledge and he turned. 

Peter was gaping at the sight of the rooftop, stars and thousands of tiny lights reflected in his eyes and Wade took in the view. He'd thought the stars over New York City were a beautiful sight. 

He didn't realize until now that even they didn't compare to Peter. 

Fucking. Oblivious. Peter. 

He looked shocked and confused and almost like his world was tipping over as he stumbled down onto the patch Wade had left free of lily-lights. 

Wade remained seated as the boxes went to war over what he should say next. He opted to ignore them both and remain silent. 

The truth was, Peter's reaction was a little frustrating given the fact that he been inviting Wade to things or showing up at his place on Valentine's Day for the previous five years.  

"Ummm... what-- what is--" 

Wade gave his brightest, most charming smile and simply said, "Sit."

Peter stared at him. Wade stared back. Peter spoke first. 

"Wade, is this... is this a date--"

And Wade snapped.

"Yes, it fucking is. It's Valentine's Day . I spent four hours setting this up. I waited five years for you to get with the program and I'm done." He may have sounded a tad bit unhinged, but he saw Peter smiling like Wade had gifted him the fucking stars and he felt calm sinking it's way into his bloodstream. "Sit down. Eat the food I ordered specifically for you, and we're going to have fun, okay?" 

Peter hesitated, thumbing at the sleeve of his suit and Wade whined. Loudly. 

"Peter, I swear to God, you fucking owe me--" 

He wasn't expecting Peter to gently cradle the back of his head and kiss him. 

He had almost forgotten what it felt like back then-- it was worse now. It was stronger. It felt a little like coming home. 

 "I thought you were joking," Peter confessed, pulling away. "About the whole-- about me." 

[So he does like you; he's just a brick.] 

{A pretty one.} 

[Congratulations, your boyfriend is a fancy rock.] 

{A fancy rock is good enough for me-- } 

"Yeah, well you're fucking dense." Wade had been more than obvious. He'd done all but throw himself naked at Peter and he had a feeling that even if he had, Peter would have been the perfect goddamn gentleman. 

"I know." Peter wasn't the least bit ashamed and Wade needed to fix that. 

"You should be ashamed," he clarified. He put all of his authority into the statement. 

Peter just grinned and climbed into his lap and Wade forgot how to use his own hands.  

 "I'm not." Of course he wasn't. 

"You suck." He didn't. He was perfect-- 

 "I will."

Wade's brain went offline and didn't resurface until he saw the totally innocent smile on Peter's face. 

The food was promptly forgotten in favor of aggressive kisses that turned into soft little bites and quiet overwhelmed breaths before Peter had to gently push Wade back and remind him that, "You said I had to eat the food." 

Wade chased after him, gazing his teeth against Peter's neck with Peter turned away from him laughing. 

"The food sucks," Wade threw out. It didn't, those tacos were amazing, but Peter was the only person in the world that was more important than food. 

Peter continued laughing and Wade pouted as his actions proved less effective than he had hoped. 

"It doesn't," Peter argued, even as his smile grew wider. "It smells amazing, and you ordered it for me and we should eat." He lowered his voice and leaned forward to whisper into Wade's ear. "We'll... uh... stay awake longer that way." 

It was the most awkward seduction technique Wade had ever encountered and the worst part about it was that it worked, because Wade ate his food while keeping one arm wrapped around Peter's waist. He was clearly turned on and there was no hiding it and Peter ate so damn slowly that Wade felt like screaming into his shoulder. 

He was quite pleased with himself for making Peter pay for it once they got back to his place. 

Peter was a glorious blissed out mess in Wade's bed and that was exactly the way Wade wanted him. The way he'd wanted him for so damn long. 

He heard Peter mutter something into his pillow and Wade gently turned his face to the side. 

"What was that now?" 

It took quite a bit of effort to ask; Wade was on the verge of passing out himself. 

Peter smiled, a sweet, tired little thing. 

"I… didn't realize it was Valentine's Day." 

He still sounded like he was learning to breathe again and Wade almost pumped his fist in the air until he took in what was being said. 

He looked over Peter's face, his half-asleep adorable face and he could tell he wasn't lying and Wade had to suppress the urge to grab his shoulders and shake him for not bothering to look at a calendar or pause in the street and  notice all the teddy bears and balloons.  

He breathed in and out. Once. A few more times in quick succession as Peter nuzzled his damn pillow and finally Wade felt calm enough to gently trace a little pattern over Peter's arm and ask, "All six times?" 

Peter peaked open one eye to look at him. A serious look began to creep over his features and then there was something almost like a delicate version of mortification gracing his eyes. 

He blinked. He stared. He opened his mouth and shut it as words escaped him and Wade watched the show unfolding before him, fascinated. 

"Six times," Peter repeated. 

Wade smiled. This was amazing. Vindication. Vindication!  

"Six," he whispered again, horror on the edge of his words. "Oh my God. No, no, no . We hang out all the time." 

It sounded like he was trying to explain his thought process, but Wade had already pieced it together a few minutes ago and this was the greatest day of his life.  

"Wade," Peter continued, gripping Wade's shoulders and his arms and looking completely uncertain of where to put his hands. "Wade, I did this six times? Why didn't you tell me, oh my god." 

"To be honest… I thought maybe we were dating and I just didn't remember when we started but you were taking it extraaaaa slow. One date a year? Like, that 800k type of slow burn fic. You know, like the ten year movies?" 

Peter's face went through a series of emotions and it settled on something that didn't look quite like fury, but was close enough that Wade barely missed being smacked by a pillow. 

"This isn't The Notebook, Wade!" 

No, it definitely wasn't. 

The Notebook wasn't as fun. 

Wade got pillow fights and prank-the-Avengers-days.